


An Acquired Taste

by cazflibs



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Happy Birthday LVM!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs
Summary: Another year of their relationship brings another birthday for Lister. And THIS year, Rimmer is adamant that nothing will go wrong. Which is sure to spell disaster.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	An Acquired Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LordValeryMimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordValeryMimes/gifts).
  * Inspired by [All In Good Taste](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21319546) by [cazflibs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs). 



> It's been a whole year since I've last written anything so seriously had to dust off the cobwebs to produce this one. Hope it's not too creaky. :-/
> 
> As always, Happy Birthday to my gorgeous space wife, LordValeryMimes. Hope you like this fic gift. MWAH!

Judging by the triumphant brass band music and warm chocolatey smells that were wafting from the next door quarters as he awoke, Lister could only surmise that his hologrammatical husband was already Rather Busy.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and releasing a satisfying crack in his neck, he slouched his way happily next door to investigate what surprise lay in store this year. And sure enough, at the sound of his approach, Rimmer spun back on his heels to face him and beamed smugly.

"Ahh, Listy!" he brayed. "The Man of the Hour has arrived!" Rimmer tossed back invisible long-lost locks before fixing the man with a snide smile. "Oh and the Birthday Boy is here too, I suppose."

Lister sniggered at both the veiled insult and the unshakeable habit and replied to both with a peck on the lips. "Wouldn't be me big day without one of your oh-so-selfless birthday greetin's now, would it?"

There was no reply from the hologram apart from a teasing tug of the eyebrows and a fresh, steaming mug of sweet tea held silently aloft. 

Accepting it gratefully, Lister took a careful sip. "Wow," he said through a swallow as he glanced around the fastidiously tidy kitchenette. "This is all very organised."

Rimmer preened unashamedly. "You know me, Listy," he snorted. 'Organised' is my middle name."

Lister treated him to a mocking eyebrow over the rim of his mug. "Is that before or after Judas?"

Knocking back the dig with a dismissive wave of the hand, Rimmer continued. "No last-minute scrabbling together of ingredients THIS year, m'laddo. No unlevelled decorations. No unstable constructions. Just military-level planning and execution, Listy."

Placing down his mug to cool off, Lister rolled his eyes as twitchy fingers immediately slid a coaster underneath it before plucking at an invisible speck of flour on the work surface and flicking it away. 

"The cake is currently spending its final moments of glory in the oven. And not only is the washing up already completed but the ingredients are tidied away back into the cupboard." Rimmer tapped his watch. "All running to plan as scheduled."

Folding his arms with a wry smile, Lister nodded. "Alright, Paul Hollywood," he chuckled. "What's the Star Baker got in store for me this year then, eh?" His eyes lit upon the open cookbook leaning against the backsplash. "Ooh! Black Forest Gateau?" The Scouser scanned the array of recipe ingredients and pursed his lips, impressed. "Very chic."

Plucking up the book, turmeric stained fingers flicked idly through the pages. "You coulda just done your Jam Roly Poly, y'know?" Lister flashed Rimmer a warm smile over his shoulder. "I always love that."

The hologram scoffed in dismissal as he tied the end of the whipped cream piping bag with a flourish. "This isn't just some Sunday whip-up, m'laddo! A special occasion deserves a special creation!"

"Okay, okay," Lister soothed past a smirk as he moved to replace the book on the counter. "I'm sure it'll be -- " He stopped suddenly as he noticed a small white pot sat in the book's original resting place before his cheeks split with a wide grin. 

"WOAH-HO! I thought you reckoned you'd tidied _everythin'_ away, man?" Lister needled with unrestrained amusement. "You'd better hide the spreadsheet evidence, pronto. The Patisserie Police will be breaking down the door _any_ minute now."

"What are you blathering on about, Lister?" Rimmer sniffed as he began to organise the glace cherries into size order. "Every single ingredient that went into that cake has already been tidied away in alphabetical order."

"What, you mean includin' the - " Lister's brow furrowed as he studied the label. " - baking powder?" He turned back to face the hologram, proffering it with a questioning wiggle.

A lone glace cherry plopped loosely back into the tub as Rimmer's face passed through an interesting array of expressions before simply settling on a quiet and strained: "What?"

It took a few seconds for his still-sleepy brain to catch on. But once he'd clocked what had clearly happened, Lister bit his lip awkwardly. "I mean, I'm definitely a novice at this bakin' lark, but isn't that kinda vital?"

"Oh bloody BUGGERING hell!"

Quickly fumbling on a pair of oven gloves, Rimmer opened the oven and drew forth a circular tin that now contained a rather flat, sunken cake.

It took every inch of willpower for Lister to keep a straight face as Rimmer tipped the tin upside down to allow what could only be described as a thin rubber discus to thud heavily onto the cooling rack.

The pair stared at it in silence.

"Well," Lister mused eventually. "At least it didn't stick to the tin?"

Rimmer said nothing. Instead his knuckles slowly turned white as he gripped the oven gloves tighter.

"Tea," Lister decided as he patted Rimmer's shoulder then reached across to turn on the kettle. "Definitely time for tea."

Fifteen minutes later, the pair were both nursing a brew. Glancing sideways at the brooding hologram, Lister sighed and nudged him with his shoulder.

"Look, don't be angry about it."

"About what?" Rimmer snapped. "What makes you think I'm angry?"

"Well, the fact you're grippin' the mug so tight you're makin' indents in the ceramic is a bit of a giveaway."

"Oh ha ha."

"I'm serious, man!" Lister retorted. He drained the last of his tea until the remains of his three sugars slid merrily into his mouth before gesturing with the spent cup. "Remember that week you spent tryin' to learn how to make macarons? You crushed that entire set of blue mugs."

"It's a ridiculously fiddly process!" Rimmer spluttered. "And in my defence, it's rather difficult to source decent finely ground almonds in deep space."

"Yeah, yeah," Lister sighed as he cocked his head to reassess the offering still splatted on the cooling rack. "I mean, I guess I could use it as a placemat?"

The hologram sneered over the rim of his mug. "Lister, you barely make use of a _plate_ , let alone tablewear."

Turning the cake over between experimental hands, Lister fought to hide a giggle as he bounced it in experimentation against the counter. "I mean as flat rubber cakes go, it's pretty sturdy. Do you reckon me and Cat could use it as a replacement dartboard for the Games Room?"

"It depends," Rimmer strained through a thin smile. "Do you fancy getting thwacked with aforementioned flat rubber cake?"

"Nah. Been there, done that," Lister dismissed with a tilt of the head as he replaced the cake on the cooling rack. Clocking Rimmer's confused look, he elaborated. "Back in Liverpool when I was about 19, I was seein' this girl called Stacey who worked at the local bakery in town." 

A goofy wistful smile glazed across gerbil cheeks as Lister lost himself in the memory. "She always got a bit distracted when I used to pop round the back to see her. Burnt buns, sunken scones, you name it. Ohh man, we had some sen-smeggin'-sational times on the top of them flour sacks." Lister bit his lip and giggled. "I guess it was less 'thwacked', more 'spank -' "

Feeling the heat of the hologram's glare, Lister's grin sank faster than his baked birthday offering. He hurriedly cleared his throat. "Yeah, anyway. How about covering it in custard?"

"Oh is _that_ what she said?" Rimmer huffed.

"The _cake_ , man," Lister soothed through a smirk, rubbing his hands up and down the fuming man's arms. "It might, y'know," he shrugged, "loosen it up a bit." And before Rimmer could snipe again, Lister slapped him on the sleeve. _"The cake,_ you kinky sod." 

"Oh _am_ I, now?" Rimmer growled as his arms snaked around Lister's waist, its rumbling depths snagging somewhere between irritation and intrigue. "Says the man who enjoys S&M with baked goods."

Lister's guilty giggle was muffled between locked lips which soon deepened into an appreciative moan as he felt a tell-tale nudge. "Mmm," he managed before breaking off their kiss to grant the man an indicative nod downwards. "I see that _somethin'_ is rising to the occasion."

"Indeed," Rimmer conceded. "Just not the sodding cake, sadly."

Reaching past him, Lister plucked up the unused piping bag from the counter. "I reckon we could still make some good use of some of this though," he winked.

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're going to try out some of your second-hand 'Stacey' moves on _me_ now, squire?"

"Don't be like that," Lister sniggered before teasing at the man's ear and whispering into its depths, "You know that thing you do with Cadburys Buttons drives me wild."

Lister sighed happily as they sank into a kiss once more. That said, there were definitely some fun ideas involving the freshly whipped cream that he hadn't tried for three million years.


End file.
